Angst, Affections, and Alcohol
by MKayF
Summary: Lately, Skwisgaar hasn't been what he used to be. He's been slipping up while playing guitar, he's lost his sex drive, and he's been worrying over everything - most notably, his supporting guitarist, Toki, who's let alcohol and underlying issues take over his life. I'm going to keep the rating at T for now, but it's certainly subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

It was nearly three in the morning. Skwisgaar's callused fingers raced across the neck of his Gibson Explorer, his deep blue eyes intently locked on his guitar. Though it wasn't amplified, you could hear the faintest trace of Hatredcopter being played at a noticeably faster tempo than usual; a solid prestissimo. Incoherent words were mumbled throughout the piece, undoubtably self-criticism. Despite his incredulous speed, the occasional missed note and slip of fingers made it clear that the Swede's mind wasn't on music. Skwisgaar gritted his teeth in frustration. His hearing was being utilized to its fullest extent, anxiously awaiting the slightest sound indicating that somebody was walking through the doors of Mordhaus. Nobody had entered or exited since eight o' clock that night, when Toki set out for the bar.

Across the room, their minds considerably clearer, Murderface and Nathan were engaged in a loud conversation about Planet Piss.

"Of courshe, I'll do whatshever I needshe to do! Planet Pissh is going to be HUGESH!"

"Yeah, but you know that Planet Piss isn't brutal. Piss is so not brutal."

Adding to the room's medocrity, Pickles drifted in with a brand new bottle full of vodka. It shattered as he stumbled into a wall and erupted in a fit of giggles. Soaked and reeking of alcohol, the vibrant ginger plopped down next to Skwisgaar on the sofa. The Wisconsin native slung his arm over the guitarist's shoudler and gave him a crooked grin.

"Hey, Skwizgir, are ye worried about yer boyfrenn'? Out too late? Huh?"

Pickles was obviously pleased when he noticed that Nathan and Murderface had fallen into silence. Their eyes were fixed on Skwisgaar.

"Wow, Skwisgaar, you know that gay is, uh, gay. Right?"

"Yeah, gay ish for thoshe shissies that wear pink shirhts and schit like-"

Skwisgaar furrowed his eyebrows as he interrupted Murderface, but his eyes didn't stray from his guitar.

"He ams NOT my boysfriend, yous all knows-"

"Eh-eh! Don't defend yerself!" Pickles yelped as he sat up, only to fall face first into the coffee table littered with beer bottles. Instead of sitting up once more, he simply stayed there. A moment passed, the only noise being the silent melody of Hatredcopter. Finally, Nathan cleared his throat.

"So, uh, is he, like, in a coma? Or something?"

"I don'ts knows!" Skwisgaar said, his voice dripping with irritation. "I ams no doctors!"

"Gawd, Shwisgaar, you don't need to be shutch a piss face..."

"I ams nots a piss face!"

He finally tore himself away from his guitar. As he stood up with clenched fists, the slam of the front door echoed throughout the Haus. Toki entered the main room, stumbling slightly, with a large grin plastered across his face. Charles was relying on his inferior for support, as he was equally intoxicated. Nathan drunkenly snickered as Skwisgaar tossed his guitar on the floor and snatched Ofdensen from under Toki's arm.

"Whats on earths! Whys did you lets Toki stays out so late? You knows he's gots to be in beds by midnights or he can'ts plays guitars ins the morning!"

Skwisgaar shook Charles violently, his face turning a deep shade of red. Dethklok's long-time manager merely glanced at him with glazed eyes for a quick second before he toppled to the floor. Skwisgaar nudged him aside with his foot as he marched towards Toki. He jabbed at the younger man's chest accusingly.

"And yous! Yous can'ts just runs out and dos whatevers! Thinks of the bands! You coulds have been-"

"I'ms my own individ-divi-didjual person!" He shouted with a slur as he pushed the lead guitarist away. "We all just gots to relax! This guys," His head tipped in the direction of Ofdensen's unmoving body, "This guys hasn't hads a drinks in years!"

"Oh, wow, really? That is, uh, not metal. Not metal at all."

"Ja! He's been sobers ever since his twenties first birthdays!"

"Now TSCHAT ish gay."

With that, Nathan and Murderface resumed their drunken conversation about Planet Piss. Toki, tripping over his own feet, heaved the unconscious lawyer to the couch. Skwisgaar stared at the band, sneering, before stalking off to his room. He really wasn't in the best mood after this whole event. His supporting guitarist definitely wouldn't be up to par in the studio the next morning, the manager may or may not be spending tomorrow heaving into the toilet, Nathan was humoring Murderface far too much over the Planet Piss idea, and a drunken drummer had accused him of being gay.

"Beings gay, pshht," He mumbled to himself as he trudged up the steps.

"I has plenty of ladyfriends," Skwisgaar tripped a Klokateer and kicked him a few times as he made his way up the second staircase.

"They ams the most beautiful ladies, also," His volume was increasing with every step, causing a few bats to take flight.

"And evens if I WAS gays, I coulds do betters thans Toki...DAMSITS, hows many stairs ares there?"

Now his voice had raised to a full on shout, and Klokateers began hurrying away, making sure that they didn't make eye-contact with him as they passed. After several more staircases, he realised that he had stationed himself in front of the Norwegian's open doorway. Peering into the darkness, he could see Deddybear lying on the floor.

"Stupids idiot, lefts his bests friends on the grounds."

Skwisgaar continued walking down the hall. After a few steps, he bit his lip and turned around. Toki would be a wreck if he woke up without his bear by his side. He scoped the halls intently. His angry rampage had cleared all Klokateers from the floor, and the band was nowhere in sight. Hesitantly, he wandered back into the Norwegian's room. He picked up Toki's beloved stuffed friend and tucked it into bed. A slight smile managed to break across the man's stony face.

"Keeps Toki under controls, littles friend."

He turned around and went back down a flight of stairs, finally reaching his room. The Swede flung his door open and laid down face-first into his pillow, not bothering to clear his bed of multiple pairs of panties and a stray woman. A deep, unsettling ache that he couldn't quite identify hung heavy in his chest. _Maybes, _he thought, _maybes Toki is rights. Maybes I just gots to relax. _With sunken eyes, he peered over at the naked female lying a few feet away, but quickly lost interest. He just wasn't in the mood.

"Ugh," Skwisgaar groaned as he closed his eyes once more. "This ams worse than a hangover."


	2. Chapter 2

Skwisgaar shuffled into the dining room around ten with notable bags under his eyes. It was an unusually early start to the day for the band; they were set to record a new track that afternoon. Maybe that was the reason that the breakfast table, usually filled with pointless ramblings and various arguments, was void of conversation. Nathan pushed his scrambled eggs around his plate. Toki's face was firmly planted in a bowl of cereal. Murderface stared at Pickles as he made an attempt to chip off his black nail polish with a fork.

"Heys, yous dildos, gets mes some toasts!"

A nearby Klokateer nodded and hurried to the kitchen. Skwisgaar spotted his Gibson propped against the wall, and his mind returned to the previous night, when he'd carelessly tossed it on the floor. He felt a pang of guilt as he picked up his guitar and gently caressed it's neck. He silently thanked Odin that it was safe before he seated himself next to Pickles.

"So," Skwisgaar announced to the table. "Whats tracks ams we recordings?"

The room remained quiet. Pickles looked up from his polish-picking session and shot him a dirty look. Nathan took a bite of his eggs, Toki remained stationary in his breakfast, and Murderface simply stared in his general direction. A Klokateer placed a piece of toast in front of Skwisgaar, who thanked him with a half-hearted insult. After a few bites and several moments of uncomfotable silence, he cleared his throat and made another attempt at conversation.

"Hows abouts that news one that Nathans wrotes a few nights agos?"

Nathan grunted, causing bits of egg to fall out of his mouth. A bit of raw yolk dribbled down his chin.

"Dos you guys cares at alls? We can'ts just expects to gos in-"

"Yer really a nag, ain't you, Skwizgir?" Pickles interrupted. "Yer really not a fun guy."

As if to prevent further conflict, Charles slunk into the room with watery, pink-tinted eyes; proof that he'd been puking instead of attending breakfast. A thermos of coffee was clenched tightly in his right hand, a briefcase in his left. It was obvious that he wasn't responding well to last night's alcohol. With a weak gesture of his container, he spoke.

"Come on, boys, to the studio. Nathan, you're in charge, I just... I can't do this today."

Nathan shot Ofdensen a look that could kill and Pickles rolled his eyes. Murderface grumbled a few obscenities before the three stood up and headed to the recording studip. Skwisgaar began to trail after the others, but quickly realized that Toki remained submerged in cereal. He leaned over and gave him a whack on the head. The Norwegian quickly shot up, gasping for air. His brunette hair was dripping with milk and his signature Fu Manchu bore severeal soggy Cheerios. With wide, confused eyes, he looked to Skwisgaar.

"Wowee, I didn'ts thinks that I was that tireds!"

"Lets me gets those," Skwisgaar chuckled as he picked the tiny loops out of the younger man's facial hair. "We ams going to records a new song, so you'ds betters wake up."

"I'll sure trys," Toki mumbled as he followed his superior out the doors of Mordhaus.

"Oops," Toki exclaimed as he, for the twenty-fourth time that day, played the wrong chord. Murderface knocked his chair over and stomped off to the kitchen. Nathan turned to the computer and shook his head while Pickles, who had seized the opprotunity for a drinking game, chugged a can of beer. Skwisgaar snatched the microphone off the mix board.

"You calls that trying?" He spat into the mic. Toki winced and began to sputter out an apology, when he was interrupted by Skwisgaar playing the correct chord continuously into the speaker. Over the repeated notes, he shouted, "This ams tryings Toki! It ams not that difficults!"

"Skwisgaar, I'ms-"

"Quiets! Whos do you thinks you are? Yous thinks yous somethings special?"

"Hey, Skwisgaar, calm down, you're acting cr-"

"Shuts up Nathans!" He snapped at the vocalist, who had taken time out of editing the small amount of work they'd accomplished so far to defend the rhythm guitarist. Pickles kicked his feet up on the table, punched Nathan's arm, and drunkenly giggled.

"Yeh, shut up Natahan!"

Skwisgaar was apparently oblivious to the drummer's mockery, because he raged on, strumming his guitar faster with every harsh word.

"Yous not specials! Yous just a regular jack off whos happens to gets in a band because you happens to plays guitars betters thans the other jack offs! You ams NOTHING."

Toki slipped his headphones off of his ears and around his neck as tears began to well up in his eyes. He looked down at the guitar in his hands.

"Wow, uh, that was a little far," Nathan mumbled to Skwisgaar, who had finally silenced his guitar. Pickles nodded in agreement. The blonde now stood with his arms crossed, glaring at the distraught rhythm guitarist through the glass. Nathan's statement seemed to have passed right over his head. The two Scandanavians locked eyes, and Toki took a shallow breath.

"No, Nathans, it's trues. Just let Skwisgaar plays my parts, it will sounds betters anyways."

He opened the studio door and silently handed his Flying V to Skwisgaar. His head dropped and he looked away, making a poor attempt to hide the tears that were steadily pouring from his eyes. Just as he grasped the kitchen doorknob, Murderface flung the door open. The two stood face to face for a second before Murderface spoke.

"Are thoesch tearchs?"

"No theys nots!" Toki wailed as he pushed him out of his way. With a slightly irritated expression, the bassist sat down at the mix table alongside the rest of the band. Skwisgaar tossed the V aside and grasped his Explorer tightly in his hands as he entered the recording room. He adjusted the mic and gave it a few taps.

"Let's just gets this overs with."


End file.
